


Waited

by write_your_way_out



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 19:52:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11675940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_your_way_out/pseuds/write_your_way_out
Summary: In the dead of night, Historia is still awake, haunted by a past she can’t let go. She decides to take matters into her own hands and writes a letter.





	Waited

Historia, ruler of the walls, public figure, beacon of hope, had to be poised at all times. Composed. Graceful. She held her chin high, and her hopes higher. The emblem of a new era, the symbol of a resurgence. 

At least, when she was in a crowd. 

When she was alone, Historia Reiss was none of those things. Behind closed doors, she was just a teenage cadet corps graduate, ex-survey corps member with futile dreams and a shattered crush. 

She still kept the letter. 

She’d received it months ago, filled with brevity and shortcomings. It gave her no answers or explanations. Excuses, maybe. In truth, it wasn’t the contents of the letter that mattered. It was the name signed on the bottom in looping black ink. 

Ymir.

No last name - she’d never had one. Not that it mattered, because Ymir was unmistakable. Unforgettable. No matter how hard she tried, Historia couldn’t get her out of her head. She re-read the letter every night, fueling her childish dream that maybe, somehow, Ymir would return. It was a pointless hope. 

Many nights, like tonight, it was the burning desire to see Ymir again that kept her awake. In her private chambers, she could look out over the cities of Wall Sina. How many people lived in the walls below her? Hundreds? Thousands? 

But none of them were like Ymir. 

None of them had the same smile, the same look of both mischief and sincerity. They lacked the barking tone of voice, the gentle heartbeat, the warmth of skin. 

Perhaps it was time Historia comprised her own letter.

Her bedroom desk was plain and simple. In her office (she preferred to call it that) the desk was overflowing with papers, some completed, some not. Ink and quill smudges dotted the wood. But this desk was clean. Clear. She didn’t have much use for it. The only time it served a purpose was when she sat down to read Ymir’s correspondence. 

She didn’t know why she read it nightly. Whether looking for clues, a secret message, or merely trying to remember, Historia couldn’t say. 

She had plenty of room to write. The ink well was nearly dried out from a lack of use. The quill pen was crusted slightly on the ends, but it wrote all the same. 

She didn’t plan out what she wanted to say. As soon as she put the ink to the paper, the words spilled out for her.

‘ You lied to me. 

You said we would live for ourselves - together. I don’t understand. We made a promise, but then you turned and left me behind. And for what? A moment of honor? To repay a stupid debt you never wanted to take part in?

You took the side of the people who betrayed us. Why? Were they really more important to you than me? Than us? 

I’ve waited for months. Waited to hear from you again, waiting to see your titan climbing up the walls of the palace like you did at Utgard Castle. Waited to hear a report that the Survey Corps discovered your whereabouts. Waited to hear you were coming home.

I waited for you, but you….You left me behind. 

What kind of sick satisfaction do you get from that? Everyone tells me to move on. That you’re more than likely dead by now. Eaten. But I still wait. 

Hoping. Dreaming. Fantasizing that one day you’ll return. 

People don’t believe you’re going to come back. 

Prove those people wrong.

\- Historia.’

She set the paper aside to let the ink dry. How would she ever send it? There was no way to get it to Ymir. After all, it was hard to mail something to someone who was probably a ghost.


End file.
